The Primary Reason
by padfoot's prose
Summary: ...Why Trains Are Dumb. A comprehensive account by Lily Evans.


**The Primary Reason Why Trains Are Dumb**

_by padfoot_

...

**A/N: Written for tasha27.**

**Disclaimer: Seriously? No.**

* * *

Trains, Lily decides, are not the romantic vehicles that much of modern literature makes them out to be. In fact, they're stupid. They are too small and you see too many people you know on them. You can't escape from a conversation on a train. You can't duck behind a tree or down a different corridor, or even into a bathroom because the bloody bathrooms are the reason why you have to leave the safety of your compartment to begin with.

Which is the primary reason why trains are dumb and should never have been invented.

Lily is still in a huffing mood when she re-enters her compartment, attracting a raised-eyebrow-ed look from Marlene. She receives a glare in reply and holds up one hand in a clear sign of surrender, turning back to her book and elbowing Alice in the side when she opens her mouth to speak. Even Dorcas, who usually makes a point of staying out of other people's business unless explicitly invited, seems curious as to what has caused Lily's clearly unpleasant mood. Wisely though, she keeps silent too, simply clearing some discarded lolly wrappers from Lily's seat.

Thankfully, this kind consideration from her friends leaves Lily alone with her thoughts, allowing her to stew over the ridiculousness of the encounter she's just had. And what a stupid, ridiculous encounter it was.

She'd only left the compartment to go to the bathroom and it was on her way back that someone calling her name had made her stop. It had been Remus, and they'd exchanged friendly greetings whilst accompanying each other to Remus' compartment. Of course, inside there were his friends, so Lily had politely declined his offer for her to join them, given him a quick hug goodbye and proceeded along the corridor, thinking herself incredibly lucky that James Potter hadn't tried to accost her. It was barely ten seconds later that she had discovered why.

"-I will definitely see you then, Kimberely," a voice was saying, the body that it belonged sticking out into the corridor while the head was still inside a compartment, "First Hogsmede weekend – you and me. Don't let me forget!"

And while Lily felt the embers of annoyance begin to glow in her stomach, the head of James Potter emerged from the compartment, complete with a charming smile, perfectly tussled hair and golden-amber eyes. Eyes that instantly fixed on Lily as she halted her progress along the corridor.

"Evans," he greeted, with a curt nod of his head.

(And was it stupid that Lily's heart fell a little when that charming smile slipped off his face, expression turning stern and professional?)

Lily tried to manage the glowing red embers in her stomach. It was just Potter. He wasn't yet being ostensibly horrible. Maybe the summer had done him good. Maybe, this year, they'd finally work out how to live in harmony.

"Potter," she replied, her tone equally terse.

"Good summer?" he asked.

"Wasn't awful," she shrugged. She hoped he noticed that she was neglecting to ask about his holidays. Because, really, all hopes for harmony were a joke. As far as she was concerned, such niceties were wasted on James Potter.

He, however, didn't seem to want to be put off by her rudeness, and shifted his weight comfortably from one foot to the other, facing her more squarely so he could look her in the eyes and say, "Are you glad to be back?"

Lily smiled a little. She couldn't help it. For all his flaws, Potter had a way about him – a way of seeming effortlessly kind and decent. At least when he wanted to.

"_Merlin_, yes," she admitted, "Home was pretty awful this summer."

Potter nodded empathetically, "Yeah, I know what that's like."

The stark honesty made Lily look up properly, torn between curiosity at what he'd meant by the comment and a stubborn desire not to be so bloody curious about it. And why was he confessing something like that to her anyway?

(Did he think want her to know him better, to see beyond the stupid pranks and games? Did he know, deep down, in that place below the embers and behind the animosity, that he could trust her, in the same way that she sometimes thought that maybe, _maybe,_ she could trust him?)

"Is everything all right?"

With a dismissive shake of his head, James expelled all Lily's thoughts of trust. His silly, charming smile was back and he was sweeping a hand through his hair, as if worried he might've come to resemble something passable for a nice guy.

"Nothing that you should worry about," he assured her, reaching out to rest a condescending hand on her shoulder before adding, "Not unless you want to worry. About me."

Lily rolled her eyes, pulling away from his hand as she shot back, "I worry about you about as much as I worry about fleas."

She pushed past where he was standing in the corridor, blocking her way. Lily half expected him to try and stop her, but instead he stayed stock still, forcing her to brush close against him as he leant down and murmured, tone obscene and full of innuendo, "Is that because it sometimes feels like I'm all over you? Like I'm giving you an itch that you just can't help but want to scratch?"

Aiming a kick at his foot, which was easily dodged, Lily hissed, "Don't flatter yourself, Potter."

He let out a laugh as she stomped off, the sound cutting out suddenly with the slam of a compartment door. He'd probably gone back into the compartment with his dear Kimberley. As if Lily cared. (Why would she? Who'd want to spend a day in Hogsmede with stupid, bloody Potter anyway? Certainly not her. She was glad someone else was distracting him from terrorising her.)

Having successfully convinced herself that she was glad to be rid of bloody Potter, Lily continued down the train, barely taking two steps before another compartment door was thrown open and a livid-looking Severus was standing before her.

The two of them hadn't parted on the best terms. Ever since that awful argument after their Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL they hadn't spoken and had avoided each other at meals and between classes. Over the summer, Lily had tried to convince herself that that incident had been the last one in a long string of arguments that had occurred between the two of them, that the break-up of their friendship that had resulted had been inevitable. Still, it had been difficult to deal with, difficult to let go of a friendship that she'd held so close, considered so special, for so many years.

Yet now... her ex-best friend stood before her with a glare so pronounced, an expression so disgusted that it shocked her all anew. This was the boy who had made her summer so awful. This was the boy who had kept her up, waiting for an owl, a letter, a knock on the door – any sign that he was ready to give her his apology. But it had never come. It seemed like it never would.

"What were you doing, Evans, talking to _him_?"

Instantly Severus was on the attack, and his tone – his _glare_: never, ever before had he looked at her like that – was so full of acid and malice that it was enough to ignite the embers still smoking in her stomach, send them up into tongues of flame.

Fierce and fiery she responded, "What? Am I not allowed to talk to certain people now? Last I heard was that ex-friends have no say in who I talk to. Especially ex-friends who hang out with prats like _them_," Lily shot a pointed glower at the Slytherin boys who filled Severus' compartment.

"If you can insult my friends then I think I have every right to insult yours!"

"Potter _isn't_ my friend!"

"What is he then?" one of the idiots in the compartment called, "Your _boyfriend_?"

Lily ignored the stupid jibe, keeping her gaze on Severus. She didn't miss the way his steely expression faltered momentarily at the suggestion, as if for a second he actually _believed_ that she and Potter-

"You're _dating_ that filthy Gryffindor scum?"

The words offended her before they hurt her, making her gape and reply, "Who are you calling _Gryffindor scum_?" before she realised that that was the entirely wrong thing to say.

Because Severus looked almost sick now, his expression still awful and hostile, but his eyes so, so _hurt_. As if he honestly, really thought that after just a summer she could change so entirely, could suddenly start to like someone who was so fundamentally _horrid_, so intrinsically incompatible with her, someone who-

Someone who, all of a sudden, was much more pleasant to talk to than a boy who, not so long ago, she'd called her very best friend.

"Severus- look, I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant."

"No, I'm sorry! I just-"

"Get out of my sight!" he yelled, and it was all _there_, the pain and the anger so clear on his face. Severus had never been very good at hiding things from Lily. He'd said he was – said he had a deep, deep secret that not even she would ever know – and yet she had never believed him. He was so honest, so kind. So thankfully _different_ from the likes of Potter.

"Sev, _please_. I don't-"

"_I_ don't want to be anywhere you, Evans," he spat, "You Mudblood scum."

Inside the compartment, his friends were jeering in delight, egging him on. Lily could feel tears stinging in her eyes.

For a second she wanted to do something – the fire now raging in her stomach fuelled her on, inspiring her with the kind of eager _passion_ that she felt when she argued with James, a desperate need to be _right_, to _win._ But this was Severus. This wasn't a boy who she had ever felt for with that same desperation, that same unexplainable power. When Lily battled James, he inspired her to be bigger, to be more. Severus had always been content – more than content – with who she was. And even with his red-raged face mere inches from hers, the awful laughter of his evil friends echoing in her ears, Lily still felt that from him. His comment wasn't an invitation to fight. It was, as things always were with her and Severus, exactly what it seemed to be. He wanted to leave.

And so she did.

Down the corridor, deaf to calls of greeting, to people passing, to compartments opening and closing. Along the train, feeling trapped, feeling closed-in, as if she could never be far enough away from those words and that look and that sensation in the smoking, extinguished pit in her stomach that nothing would ever be the same again. That, just now, she had cemented her loss of a friend.

She just wanted to escape. To be far, far away from Severus and his accusations and James and his worrying and his teasing and his stupid, _stupid_ games. She just wanted to be anywhere – anywhere at all but here.

"Merlin, I hate trains," Lily muttered.

Her friends stayed silent, offering nothing in reply.


End file.
